


No, Really....

by darksquirrel



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darksquirrel/pseuds/darksquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank has a question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No, Really....

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Нет, правда…](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160628) by [Katrinos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrinos/pseuds/Katrinos)



_**Notes:**_ This is what I write when I should be writing Chapter 8 of my other story. Sigh.

_**Warnings:**_ Short fic warning but not much else.

 

“Okay,” Hank said slowly, leaning back in the wooden desk chair far enough it gave out a long creak. “Okay, Monroe is a blutbad, right?”

“Right,” Nick confirmed.

Hank nodded to himself and Nick could see him arranging it in his mind, turning it this way and that and tucking it away just so.

“And Rosalee is a fuchsbau?”

“Yep.”

They’d been looking through Marie’s books all morning. He had set Hank up with the first book he’d read, the one that Marie had left out on the desk for him. It was a good introduction to the wesen world. Or maybe he was biased because it had been _his_ first book and it was such a _relief_ to share that with someone.

“And the little old lady who lives in the apartment above me. The one who makes fruitcake for the whole building every Christmas.”

“Mauzhertz.” Stretching out on his stomach on the bed, Nick propped his chin on one hand and went back to thumbing through one of the more detailed books.

Outside it was foggy and gray and cold but he’d brought in a tiny space heater that had languished in the back of the closet for two years because it was too small to be of much use in the house. After half an hour it was warm enough they had both removed their coats and settled in for a comfortably cozy afternoon of reading on a rare middle of the week day off.

“Right,” Hank drawled. “The, uh—” He made a wiggly motion with his fingers that Nick took to be whiskers.

“That’s the one.”

“Hmmmm….”

The trailer was quiet for several minutes except for the sound of paper rustling and the drumming of the rain on the roof and the hum of the heater.

Nick waited patiently; absently licking at the watermelon safety sucker he’d gotten from the bank teller this morning (he had a cherry one in his shirt pocket for Juliette). Hank had something else on his mind and eventually he’d spit it out.

“Okay I have to know,” Hank said finally. “Wu. What is he?”

Nick looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow. “Human as far as I know.”

“I picture him as a Chihuahua. Do they have Chihuahua wesen?”

“I _really_ hope not.” Nick shuddered at the thought. “And he’s human. I’m pretty sure he would have given himself away at the New Year’s Eve party when he had eight Mai Tais and got into a fight with Simmons over who got to karaoke _Wind Beneath My Wings_.”

“The duet turned out real nice,” Hank reminisced then brought his attention back to his original goal. “Seriously, what is he?”

“Nothing,” Nick insisted. He turned his attention back to his book.

“No, really. You can tell me. Is it something hideous?” He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “Are there tentacles?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Come on. There’s no way Wu is not something weird.”

Nick pointed at him with his sucker. “I’d tell him you said that if, you know, I actually could tell him anything about this.”

“Ha, ha.” Hank went back to his book.

Nick went back to his own tome, sucker tucked into his cheek. He was reading about a wesen that looked like some sort of brightly colored tree frog. There’d been no mention of it climbing like a tree frog but he wondered if it could. That would be cool. Unless he had to chase it.

“No, _really_. What is he?”

Nick buried his face into the book.

 

End


End file.
